Speeches and Teaches
So much for taking YX-939 to a safehouse. Hot Rod's scarcely left before he's back, keeping pace with the smaller bot at his side. On their way in, he stops to give a few directions -- mostly along the lines of OH MY GOD ORION PAX IS COMING SOMEONE DO THE DAMN DISHES ALREADY -- and pick up another couple of cubes of fuel. Swivel's maybe had time to sit up and check her vision and make sure she can get by with one optic ... but then they are back. And they shouldn't be! "With what happened to Mender, I'm rethinking some of the places I wanted to send you guys," Hot Rod says. "Anyone known to work with me is obviously in danger." He enters the CR chambers to wait for Mender's delivery. Given her fragile state, Pax and the others require a little more care than Hot Rod with his ... hot rodding. Hope YX-939 likes high speed transport. He's sure gotten a lot of it today. In fact, YX-939 is still quite dizzy from all the high speed moving. Cleaning bots, at their fastest, go about a quarter of Hot Rod's speed. He still has a deer-in-headlights look when they come back, dizzy and a little discombobulated. As for how clean the place is? They're harboring cleaning bots. Cleaning bots! This place has never BEEN cleaner. Swivel had been turning on her sensors and seeing how well they could compensate for the loss of an optic. Between infra-red, some form of sonar, and other scans that Swivel rarely ever used just to conserve energy. It's a shame and a waste, really, that the femme had been assigned the function of courier, but with neither exploration due to the clampdown nor outright war, her sensors without the backup of weapon systems made her redundant as anything else. But now they are coming in handy, although disuse has made them a bit sluggish to boot up. Swivel looks up and over when Hot Rod returns. "Oy! Wotter ya doin' back alre...." she pauses and looks over at YX who looks severely addled. "Ya'lright Spritz?" Taking a seat on the edge of one of the recharge slabs, Hot Rod glances down at YX-939. "Hey, are you okay with being called Spritz?" he asks. He has a tendency to veer toward YX-939 rather than calling him Spritz, but then, it's not his nickname. He's borrowing Swivel's. Hot Rod palms his cube of energon and takes a sip. Glancing at Swivel, he grimaces. The energon's not /that/ bad. "It was the S.C.U.." Hot Rod fiddles with his drink, passing it from hand to hand. He hesitates, then says, "They tried to execute a medic for working. Just -- right in the street. Scare people. She's still alive. Orion Pax is bringing her here." "...Everything was very fast." YX-939 responds a little dizzily. "I've never seen colors move like that before." He'll probably be fine. At Hot Rod's question, he blinks. "Yeah, Spritz is good. I like that name." Then, he toddles up to Swivel, bumping in to a couple of things along the way thanks to a lack of depth perception; having only one optic'll do that. "Are you feeling any better?" He blinks that big ol' optic that used to be Swivel's. Swivel tilts her head and looks at Hot Rod, frowning. "Wot? Execute fer workin'? A medic? W'need mor'em Medics, no'less!" Swivel says. She really ought not be surprised at this point when she learns things, but she still has the disposition to be horrified right over again at each new revelation of the sorry state of corruption. Swivel frowns as she puts an arm out to the toddling Spritz for him to take, should he wish, so she can bring him close to herself with more assurity than the wobbly steps he took under the influence of a lack of depth perception. She only then looks down. How eerie it is to have one of her optics peering back at her, but it's also it's own reward to know she could make some sacrifices for the good of others, even if her life wasn't one of them. "Yuppers, much better. An' you?" "Okay. Spritz." Hot Rod smiles, leaning forward. "Guess I'm used to the speed. Sorry about that." His paint shows a few marks from bullets that pierced his shoulder and arm, but nothing's leaking, so it can't be that bad. He's certainly looked /much worse/. Hot Rod looks up, meeting Swivel's gaze only a moment before he looks away. His shoulders round into a slump. "Yeah. Yeah, we do." He glances over at YX-939. Somewhat tentatively, he asks, "Hey, those two bots -- they didn't try to hurt you or anything, right? They seemed scared." "Huh?" YX-939 looks back at Hot Rod. "No, they... I thought they were going to, but they wanted me to call enforcers to get you." His optic squints as he thinks about it. "They didn't look so good. One of them didn't have arms. Is this a... A normal thing? Do a lot of people have missing parts?" "Wot two bots?" Swivel asks mildly alarmed. Bots hurting Spritz? HASN'T HE HAD ENOUGH!? "Oh..." Swivel relaxes when Spritz says they didn't do him any harm. But then the mention of mechs without body parts comes up and Swivel tilts her head. "Eh.... not... NORMAL... but it 'ent uncommon. If ya spend any time in shanty towns with 'em empties, ya see a lotter folk wi'out parts, or with mismatched ones 'coz they coona afford proper replacement." Swivel shrugs, not seeming overly bothered by the sight she is illustrating. "It's not uncommon," Hot Rod admits with a touch to his own arm. "We don't have a lot of clinics. Or a lot of shanix. Or a lot of parts." He smiles, somewhat grim, as he lists item after item that Nyon lacks. "I guess you'd get maintenance taken care of from your employer, huh? You're going to have to take care of that yourself now. There are some clinics you should avoid. And don't /ever/ go to the relinquishment clinics. I don't /care/ if clinic is the name." This bit of information about normal, regular people life doesn't sit well with dear ol' Spritz. He frowns as he gives it real thought. "Is that... What we're gonna have to do? Get mismatched parts so no one will recognize us?" Nearby cleaning bots -- who made this place LOOK GOOD because old habits die hard -- quietly listen in to the conversation, but many optics are staring. But then Hot Rod pipes up. "What's a.. Relinquishment? What does that even MEAN? It sounds like an important word." Swivel has an uncomfortable look on her face. Relinquishment clinics.... yeah... fun places, those. "Oh, those clinics," Swivel begins, rubbing the back of one hand with the other. "Sometimes, uh.... people dun... really wanner carry on. They lose their 'ope, an so they go to those places ta... well... die. They go there to give up their life 'en their frames... an others go there t'get new frames... but, uh, tha's NOT wot we're gonna do... I mean, use 'em ta get ya parts or a new frame." "Mismatched parts would probably be /cheaper/, but no -- the frame engineers I was talking about usually do a full rebuild. You'll just be -- different." Hot Rod sits back and looks thoughtful. "Relinquishment clinics are a nasty piece of work. Sometimes people just swap, try out another frame, but it's all bad." He glances at Spritz, considering the hollow of his missing eye. "Where some of the worst of the Senate's stuff happens behind closed doors. You know -- we never figured out where your eyes got replaced. Could've been one of those clinics. You ever visit one?" There's a stunned silence as the cleaning bots take in this bit of information; they seemed startled, confused, a little thoughtful, but not altogether horrified. "Wait, so..." Spritz says aloud. "Some bot decides that they want to die... And they hire someone to kill them? And then give them their body for... Someone else to use?" He doesn't sound like he completely understands the concept of it. He then looks at Hot Rod. "We never had to go to clinics. Our supervisors had their own guy come down whenever we needed something patched up." "Oh.... roight! A place loik tha' mighter been where 'e got 'is optics swapped fer cam'ras," Swivel says catching on. "Dunno 'ow long ya'd 'ave t'ave been out fer 'em ta do 'at..." Swivel frowns. The idea of things being altered without her knowing about it would make her uneasy. Swivel then thinks about the amounts of times she has been more or less in standby or unconcsious and what COULD have been done to her. "But yeah... peep 'oo dun wanner go on livin' donate their bodies so's summun else kin try a new alt mode and body, or disguise 'emselves... for lotter reasons. I dinna really know much 'bout 'em 'fore.... I just did deliveries to 'em and dinna ask questions." "I'd stay away from them." Hot Rod is firm, unusually so for him. "They were directly tied to the Institute." He sounds less crazy now, right? All of that talk he would always throw around about the government and brainwashing citizens and et cetera but here's Spritz with cameras in eyes and a recall killing others sharing his frame. "I'll give you the names of some medics who'll give you reasonable rates," he offers. "And won't skin you out of your frame and harvest your spark for who knows what." The cleaning bots still seem generally confused by the entire idea of relinquishment clinics, but YX-939 nods to Hot Rod. "Okay. Thank you. I don't know what's going to happen, but... We'd probably all be dead if you and Swivel and that other nice femme didn't come for us." With that, he toddles -- still bumping in to things -- to Hot Rod and hugs him. Itty bitty cleaner bot hug. D'aw. Oh, no, Hot Rod sounds a lot less crazy, and Swivel's ability to further deny the superfluity of corruption in the government is dwindling. It rankles the femme some, but mostly just frightens her. Swivel watches the little mech with a big spark goes over and hugs Hot Rod. "Th'other femme's name's Moonlight...." Swivel felt it worth mentioning, as she would not have managed getting so many out of the tunnels without Moonlight's help, and gratitude ought to at least be shown by remembering the femme's name. No one tell, but Hot Rod totally needed the hug. He's stiff at first, surprised and maybe a little thrown off stride, but then he wraps his arms around YX-939. He pulls the littler bot in, very carefully, and says, very quietly, "I'm sorry." "Sorry...?" YX-939 blinks in surprise. He's still hugging Hot Rod, though! "What for? YOU'RE not trying to kill us. It's not like you told the world to get all crazy..." Pax finishes his speech to the world, to let them know what's coming. Scattershot was kind enough to give him an update as to what was going on in Security Forces, and it's not good. Having moved as fast as possible he arrives with Mender in his arms, looking for the CR Chamber to try to save her if he can. There have been too many losses lately. Hot Rod draws back a little to meet YX-939's gaze. He smiles, but it's slight. Hot Rod touches two fingers lightly to the side of YX-939's face near his missing optic. "Maybe not," he says, "and maybe you'd already been targeted. But." He drops his hand and says, "Still. I'm sorry you got pulled into this. What a mess. You shouldn't have to be on the run. None of you." When Pax arrives, Hot Rod straightens. He studies Mender with some concern. "And people shouldn't be /killing/ medics. She's still alive? Here -- these CR chambers are still working, believe it or not, and I've got another medic who promised to come take a look." "She's barely holding on," Orion says. "She didn't deserve this. I wish I'd gotten there sooner." Cue a grand Orion Pax tradition: self-blame and self-doubt. "This is an amazing facility, Hot Rod. I didn't realize anything this old on Cybertron existed, let alone worked." He puts Mender into the chamber, tucking her in carefully and sealing it up to let the machine work its magic. "We cleaned them up, too!" One of the YX bots chirps up. "We saw a movie once, and maybe it wasn't accurate, but it said dirt inside a CR chamber can make people sick, so we cleaned them!" "All the lenses were rusty, so we got that off, too!" Even the FLOOR is shiny. Maybe the cleaning bots left here literally had no notion of what else to do or how else to distract themselves. "...At this rate, we'll be caught because we can't stop cleaning things." YX-939 mumbles to himself. "We kind of stumbled onto it. And into it. And through it," Hot Rod admits. His expression eases as he basks in the glow of a reflected compliment. It's not like the Acropolex is really /his/, exactly, and he certainly had nothing to do with /building/ it -- but he's here, and that's good enough. PAX LIKES IT. Clearly it's a comment on Hot Rod's good taste and sense. "I don't know what we'd do without it." Moving to study the sealed chamber, Hot Rod pauses, glances back, and says, "That's YX-939 -- call him Spritz -- and Swivel. The YX units have been recalled because they saw a little too much of the corruption at the IAA." He doesn't introduce Orion Pax, because Swivel should obviously know, and YX-939 already got the name. Swivel had managed to preoccupy herself tweaking her internal sensors when Orion arrived with the severely damaged medic in his arms. She glances over. There is a look of recognition in her optic. The mech who pointed a rifle at her when she was at the edge of the rust sea. Whilst the femme, THIS TIME, isn't covered in a bunch of holes and dents, this time she merely is lacking a paint job and has a metal patch over one optic, presumably to keep the empty socket more or less clean. Her other purple optic gleams as she shifts between Orion as he puts the mangled femme into a chamber, Hot Rod, who finally sort of admits he pulled the cleaners in unnecessarily, and the straggling cleaners that made this place nice and shiny. She walks over to Spritz, not seeming to bump into as much obstacles as he is, and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Dun worry, we'll jus' make sure ta get ya new frames with fewing cleanin' attachments an' force ya ta drop the 'abit." Her voice sounds playful, but there is still a shade of unease in it. Orion's in business mode, contemplative. "We'll need to find as many of the YXes as possible. Hot Rod, do you have adequate supplies here? My friends and I have been encountering more Enforcers coming against us lately; they don't seem to change tactics, and when they leave, we commandeer their equipment and supplies." He watches the CR Chamber working, resting his hand on his faceplate thoughtfully. "... Have you seen the news recently?" he asks after a moment. "Swivel's right. We'll help you figure something else out," Hot Rod promises YX-939. He puts up a better front with Pax in the room than he did before. The vulnerability of his quiet words is tucked neatly beneath confidence. On the subject of supplies, Hot Rod makes a very encouraging, "Eh," kind of noise. "We're okay, but nothing's /ever/ adequate. We've got a few months stockpile for us, but anything extra goes out to the city. And there's basically no end to that. More and more people are out of work every day as the higher castes automate things to squeeze every last shanix they can out of limited resources. We've got some ideas about getting more supplies, though," he says with a vagueness that suggests ... trouble. Stepping back, Hot Rod leans back up against one of the recharge slabs. "No. We don't get much news with the communications down. Sometimes we head out to get updates, but last time I tried that, I almost became news, instead," he admits with a quick grin and zero regret. "Wot news? About oner 'em Senators?" Names of senators mean nothing to the femme. The name Shiftlock does, though! Not that she's met the femme face to face. "An Shiftlock..." Swivel shrugs her shoulder. She's just glad the rumours about her didn't get around as fast as they could have if not for the black out. "Coitenly na' the news 'bout 'em mysteriously dead thugs... tha's old news, none wants t'ear 'bout that." Swivel then tilts her head to the other side. "Oh... as O'Rod said, I'm Swivel." OH! So that is who she meant when she said O'Rod the other cycle. Hot Rod. O'Rod. Close enough. "But mebbe I otter go if ya'gunna talk stuff that I 'ent s'posed t'be 'round fer. I 'ent 'ficially thrown m'lot in wi' O'Rod 'ere... so's... yeah. I'm jus.... a courier." "What?" YX-939 stares at Swivel in surprise. "JUST a... Just? You gave me your eye! You pulled two of the guys out of A FIRE! You're brave, Swivel! Don't say you're 'just' an anything, okay?" At the moment, there are several YX bots staring up -- and up, for they are quite a bit shorter -- at Pax in quiet wonder and awe. "If it's all right with you, Hot Rod, I'd like to stay with you for a few days, until the situation with these corrupt police officers is resolved. I can't do much alone, but I have to do -something-. I still want to be out there, making a difference. Changing lives." Orion has a seat across from the medical equipment, looking at all the bots present. "You have quite a team here," he praises the young hero. What could Hot Rod ever say to that besides a brilliant, "Of course!" He is delighted. He is /delight itself/. "I mean, you can stay as long as you like, but I'm not sure a couple of days will cut it. It's not just a few corrupt cops, Pax. I mean -- no offense, but you don't understand how /unusual/ you are." No offense. Looking at Swivel and the YX units, Hot Rod flashes them a quick smile. "They're friends, not my team. Although I keep trying. Trying to duck politics, right, Swivel? Spritz and the rest just needed a place to hide." Hot Rod's easy manner falters as his gaze swings back to Swivel with her words. "What was that about Shiftlock?" He glances between Swivel and Orion Pax with a note of tension prickling up his struts and squaring his shoulders. Pax hates to be the bearer of bad news, but, well... "She's dead, Hot Rod. She and Senator Ratbat were found dead in his office in Darkmount." The YX bots look distinctly uncomfortable at being called a 'team'. "We're nothing special, sir." YX-939 -- Spritz -- looks at Pax with a worried look on his face. "We're just... Hiding. None of us can do much of anything." There is a moment of surprise as Swivel looks at Spritz when he lets into her about referring to herself as 'just a courier'. Her single optic flickers a few times as she just stares at the little mech. Although, she is not much bigger herself. "Well....um.... I'm still just a courier tha'did those thin's." She looks over at Hot Rod and Orion, a bit relieved that Orion stepped into to tell Hot Rod about Shiftlock. Swivel also nods. "Naw, I'm not parter th'team. I dun wanner b'shot on sight else I kint d'me job. I kin do favours, but not fully 'scociate with O'Rod." Swivel shrugs her shoulders. Swivel takes a moment to review what Spritz said about her. Brave? Not really. Dedicated to helping her friends? Absolutely. Still hearing someone speak so well of her is core warming. Hot Rod vents hard and fast, almost as though sideswiped. His gaze flickers a couple of times as he blinks through his first two responses. "What happened?" he says. Eventually. His voice is more than steady: it's even, dead flat, with a control that speaks louder than his many flashes of outrage and fire. Orion brings up his forearm, sliding open a panel; there he accesses a communication system. Pressing a few keys on the tiny panel inside, a holographic screen projects, big enough for everyone present to see. He replays the news video announcing Ratbat - and Shiftlock's - death. "That's all we know right now," he adds, giving a moment of silence after the transmission ends. "From what I understand, utter chaos ensued among the Autobot ranks in the Decagon when the word broke out." The lot of cleaning bots seem collectively... Confused. How do you react to news of someone's death when you A) didn't know them and B) already saw a whole lot of people you DID know die in brutal and unforgiving ways? They settle for just standing there dumbly, exchanging looks between each other. Swivel looks at the bots, and had she been able to read minds, would understand their confusion. Swivel cares little about how died, just how those deaths will effect things around him. She knows Hot Rod will be effected by Shiftlock's demise. She figures a dead Senate will effect the stability of the government. "Wunner 'oo'll they'll blame it on first? O'Rod or Megatron?" Swivel muses out loud. The first flicker of a sharp look scarcely makes it to Pax before Hot Rod glances down at the floor. In the end, he just nods. Glancing up at Swivel, he snorts. "You know, I hadn't even thought of that. Why /not/ blame it on me." He gestures, sharp and cutting, with exasperation given jagged edges by a loss he's not prepared to process here and now. Earnestly, he tells Orion Pax, "You know the Nyon cops are lying, right?" "I know. I believe you," Orion consoles. The loss weighs heavily on his mind as well. "There's a skip in the video. They probably edited the connection we all knew about. Ratbat wanted her out of the way because she knew too much. From what I was told, there was a poisoning attempt at the Decagon when she was brought in for repairs after the Decepticons released her. I have to wonder what really happened. Still ... wondering will not bring her back to life." "The corruption I saw in those cops obvious is blatant, and because you're trying to do the right thing - openly - they are going to push back against you. This is just the first loss. There will be others." The little disposables stay silent. Mostly. YX-939 quietly walks up to Hot Rod. He doesn't say anything. He just takes hold of his hand and gives a little squeeze. Well, as much as Spritz and other units often follow Swivel, this time Swivel follows Spritz. She walks over to Hot Rod, and takes his other hand in both of hers, looking up at him with her one remaining optic. Tension runs from Hot Rod's shoulders and spoiler as Orion reassures him. Take that, propaganda! OP BELIEVES HIM. "I know they will," he says seriously. "They think they've got the power, and that they can scare people with it." He glances over at Mender, then shakes his head. "But they're wrong. "The real power is here." Hot Rod smiles -- slightly, slowly -- as YX-939 and Swivel each take one of his hands. He squeezes their hands back with frank gratitude in his gaze. He repeats, "It's /here/." He sounds more certain with each word. "With people who never wanted to get involved. Wanted to keep their heads down. But who just can't stand by and do nothing when their friends are hurting. That's where the power /really/ is. With us. And that's what scares them." You can't see Orion smiling under that faceplate, but it's there. He sits up, closing the panel on his arm. "You sound like you read Megatron's book," he says, lighthearted. "...What's a Megatron?" That comes from YX-939, looking up at Hot Rod and Pax with one blinking optic. "Sounds like a powerful guy. Megatron. Big name." The squeeze of her hand earns another squeeze back and then Swivel releases his hand, taking a few steps back. She lightly applauds Hot Rod's speech. However, Spritz' questions causes her to glance at him for a moment or two. "Yeah, big name. Scary angry miner, but fights fer peeps loik you 'n I, low castes 'n 'sposibles 'n the loik. But... uses lots more violence 'en O'Rod. Saw 'im tear 'part a relinquishment clinic with 'is bare 'ands! Okay... maybe some weapons, but still!" "People around here love his writings," Hot Rod says with a touch of exasperation and a lingering smile. "He's got some good stuff, I'll admit, but I hate the way it pulls some passionate people out of Nyon and sends them to Kaon" "It pulled me out of Rodion, and onto the floor of the Senate." Orion looks at YX and Swivel, two hopeful, innocent faces caught up in a fight they should never been involved in. "I don't think he's the same Megatron anymore. The miner that was arrested and brought into my custody was a kind-sparked intellectual, a deep thinker. Being a part of the pits has changed him. It's given him a taste for death." "I can't follow that path. I can't burn the world to ashes and sift for the gems that might have survived. If we're going stop this madness, we have to show every living spark on Cybertron that freedom is the right of all sentient beings." There's a bunch of cleaning bots just staring at Orion Pax. Many pairs of optics, lit up with wonder. Even 939 is starry-eyed by the speeches Pax has bee laying on them for the past short while. "Is there anything we can do...?" Little Spritz wonders aloud, barely whispering. Such AMAZEMENT, he is in. Swivel clears her vents noisily and glances around. There had been a few times the femme had considered relocating to Kaon, but that had less to do with Megatron's writings, which she had never read all of, and more to do with a any time she's had difficulties with Nyon locals every once in a while and might have needed some distance. However she shakes her head. "Tha's notter path I'd loik either.... kinner 'ard t'think of Megatron as kind sparked though... 'e jus' 'as this LOOK 'bout 'im. So.... angry...." Swivel shudders. Man, that's a way better line than just yelling 'freedom'. Hot Rod, to be honest, doesn't look all that different from the YX bots. "He might be angry, but it's hard not to see why," he says somewhat reluctantly. He glances at the medic in the CR chamber, and says, "Actually, it's really easy to see why. But Pax is right." (Of course.) "If we just burn everything down, how many people get hurt by that?" If this is a slightly different tune for him, he seems oblivious. He's totally not just repeating what Orion Pax says. TOTALLY NOT. Just a gentle hand and a teacher. It's all this little group needs - someday they'll be strong enough to stand on their own, and if they're not? He'll be there. No more losses. Not if he has anything to say. "Get yourselves repaired. Listen to what is going on around you. Think deeply about your actions, and do your best to stay within the law, when you can, and most importantly - learn to trust and rely on one another. A wire can be cut, but when you bind them together into a cable, they can hold together against the heaviest weights," Pax explains. The starry-optics come out in force. Honestly, if they could form actual star shapes in there, they probably would be; so many cleaning bots in PURE AWE. "...That is the greatest speech I have ever heard." YX-939 gasps. "How do you DO that?" "O'course... dz'it matter where folk are, Nyon'r Kaon, long as thye're tryin' ta do wot's roight?" Swivel glances about herself. She doesn't seem quite as star struck by Orion Pax as the others in the room. She respects him and agrees with him, but she isn't surprised by his valour so much as relieved to finally find someone that fits her ideal of what a lawmech ought to be. One who is there to protect and serve. However, when mentions staying within the law her single optic widens and she holds her arms up to the air, looking up as if thanking some cosmic being for SOMEONE other than her saying that. "FINALLY! Tha's wot I been TRYIN' ta do, an' only gettin' flak fer it! THANK YA!" "Shuttle might've left on the law bit," Hot Rod says. He glances over at Swivel with a quick grin and shakes his head. It's easy for him to be amused about it here and now. "Wish you luck, though, Swivel." Glancing at Orion Pax, his smile fades, and he says, "Thanks. I'm glad you were there earlier, and that you could be here. If not for you, I don't know what would have happened to Mender." Or him. Or YX-939. "You're welcome. It's my job," Pax replies.